Treading on broken glass
by LordOfTheOverworld-LupitisCole
Summary: Yes, I think you love me, yes I think we should be together, and yes, I love you back. Clary is trapped, just like Jace had been, and Sebastian is in a constant battle with himself, asking whether or not he loves her, telling himself he doesn't. But as the war rages outside, he will have to make his final decision. Does he love Clarissa Frairchild? A dark story in Sebastian's POV.
1. Fury

_**A/N- Hi, guys! I want to warn you that this will be a dark story, I'm showing you all just how evil, psycho, loving, sad and angry I think Sebastien can be. I hope you enjoy it, and please send me some feed=back, I would like to see what you think!**_

Dark forces attempt to penetrate the barrier, swirls of black murge together and hit the invisible wall, breaking like waves against a cliff. It will take them another few days to so-much as weaken the baricade, father says. But he has been wrong before, not that he'll admit it, of course. We have Clarissa. We have her, and they don't, that says enough. They will stop at nothing to take back what they believe to be theirs.

"Sebastian, sir," I turn away from the window I had been gazing out of.

"What is it, Aline?" I glare lazily at the woman-servent, someone who had made the mistake of thinking they'd do well on our side of the war.

She is one of many who had believed Valentine's words; _"Anyone who joins me in this war will be forever privileged with whatever they desire. From food, to jewels, to your families assured safety, it shall be open to you, if you join me."_ Yeah, right. Anyone who did join him was either appointed as a servant, or forced to join the ever-growing fleets of men...and of boys. There are boys out fighting for my father.

"Mr Valentine requests your presence, sir. He says it's urgent." She's wide-eyed, like a mouse trapped in a corner.

"It's always urgent when it comes to my father...tell him I'm coming," I mutter, annoyance nipping at my tone. Aline bows her head and hurries out the door of the library, the one room with a full view of the war outside...it just so happens to have been my favourite room in the manner before this all started, the place I used to find solitude. Solitude, something that has become such a rarity, it's depressing.

A sigh escapes my lips, something that can express more emotion than most words. Father will be angered if I make him wait any longer.

* * *

"Ah, my son," says Valentine airily, as if he has someone to impress, though we are the only two in his study. "How are you doing? Is Clarissa being obedient?"

"I'm fine, and Clary is doing nothing but obeying my every word. All is well, sir." I speak like a trained soldier, my back is straight, chin up, tone flat.

"This war has aged me, I do not feel as good as I used to. Until this conflict is over, I'm afraid we will have to be on full alert. They won't get through for another few days, as I've told you before, but...Oh, I don't know what I'm saying. Sebastian, go to the training room, you have to be up to standard for our part in the war." I look at him dully, his weathered face, greying hair, wrinkled forehead, and I see a man who has lost his mind, thriving to be the superior, a man who is not my father, but a leader in this conflict. A sergeant, no more. I pity him. I pity him and his obscured mind.

"Did you hear me, or not? I said train, _now go!" _I nod, wondering why he had summoned me up here in the first place, turn and walk out, or march, whatever you want to call it.

"Aline, make sure dinner isn't late, he's in an awful mood this evening." I drawl to the woman as I pass her in the corridor.

The training room is dark, the only light coming through the high-up windows is dull and old. I feel ill, sick with the dankness of my life. Almost like crying. But no, I will not cry, because crying is weak, crying is pointless...Crying means you're not a man, but a piece of dirt on the bottom of a horses shoe. I pick up a set of lob-stars, ones that were taken from the Institute when we raided it. I hurl one star at the target, hitting it on an outside ring. It angers me to see myself frail. I hold a star in my hand, a hand that has grown strong with the training I'd done with father when I was a child. The thought of my childhood angers me farther, forcing me to tighten my grip on the weapon. I feel the heated mettle bite into my skin, feel my blood, demon blood, lick the blade. I open my hand, observing the star that sits half-way out of my palm, and I think of it as a metaphor of my life. I am like this star, alive, but trapped, blood-soaked in my own fury.

"Urrrgh," I spit, pulling the blade out. I scribble an _Iratze_ on my skin and quickly get back to training, in the fear that my father will come in and punish me for disobeying him. Yeah, that's me, alway in fear, fear of my father, fear of losing the war and being executed..._fear._

I pound the punch bag, sending it swinging in circles. My fists hurt and the sweat on my forehead is threatening to flood my eyes, but I pummel the bag, not letting it settle for one moment. After training, I place each sword, dagger and any other equipment back in its rightful place.

"Goodnight _Ustor," _I say, patting my favourite blade as I place it on its stand. _Ustor;_ the burner. She burns skin to a crisp, very vicious, which is why she's the best.

I decide it's time to visit my dear sister, who isn't allowed out of her room unless I say so. I should feel sorry for her, but after that stunt she played in my home, making it disappear like that, I just can't bring myself to feel anything but hate for her...hate and lust. She's very feisty, that one. I open the doors to my bedroom, in need of a bath before I visit her. Stripping my clothes as I walk, I nearly trip on my earlier-dicarded clothes, I must tell Aline to clean this place up a bit. The bath is hot, the water pinching at my skin, a tepreture that would more than scorch any normal human being, but my demon blood has enforced my skin to be three times tougher than other _Shadowhunters. _

During the ceremony, when I was turning the _'Angels'_ into _'Demons', _ Jace had interrupted me. He seemed to collapse, I still don't know what happened to him, his face became distorted and he fell to the ground. Clary was there, and I made her turn instead. But her angel side is unusually strong, always fighting back. When she is a demon, she's in love with me...but not otherwise. This saddens me, of course. I don't feel love, but I do like the woman, my longing for her is only for the time we spend in bed together. This is something I like to tell myself, something I say to delude myself into thinking she's nothing more than a toy to me. I had turned them all that night, the whole crowd, all but Amatis, who had gotten away...It makes me belive I had failed my mission, the one father set out for me to do.

* * *

"Clary. How are we feeling today? Happy, sad, angry, entrapped?" I say, sitting on the bed with a tired-looking ginger. She hasn't opened her eyes, but I know she's awake, she smells of fear...Must be the angel version tonight, _dang,_ I was hoping for a little action.

"I have to leave," her eyes snap open, and immediately find mine. They're so green, like the emeralds my father has in his treasury room. I gaze at her frustrated jaw, wishing to kiss it so badly.

"Now, don't speak like that, it makes me feel as though you don't wish to be here. That wouldn't be true, would it? That you don't wish to be here?" I say lightly, teasing her into an enraged state. Sometimes, when she gets angry enough, her angel loses grip, and she becomes a demon once more. She smiles at me, her eyes mischievous.

"You will not have me today, Sebastian. I will not mislay my control." She says calmly, almost eerily.

"All I want, is for you to be happy, Clarissa, can't you understand that? Can't you just except that you're happy too, and that you wan't me just as much as I ne-want you" I almost say need, which would be a lie, and I don't want to lie to this girl.

"Bite. Me."

**_A/N- Like it? It's just an intro, to show what the situation is. I hope to update often with this story, as it's unlike anything I've written before. Please tell me what you think!_**


	2. Both the same

**A/N- Hi, I've updated agin tonight, mostly because I won't be around tomorrow, but also because I have a few followers after only and hour or two, and that is just so amazing...I mean WOW! Thank you guys! Please review!**

"Bite. Me"

I gaze down at her numbly, this isn't the first time she's used spit-talk with me, and I am more than used to hearing it running from her mouth. Her glare is scorching, but I can tell she is still capable of feeling emotion, there is still plenty of life in her yet. I decide on playing along with her antics.

"It'd be a pleasure, _dear_," I exaggerate the word dear, causing her to curl her lip. She doesn't think I am serious about biting her until It's too late, and her frail body is in my strong grasp. I breath into her neck, while she squirms uselessly in my arms. "No point in struggling, Clarissa, I have you in my hold, and you know as well as I do, that there is no getting out of my hold..." I whisper hotly against her skin. She stops twisting as my lips ghost over her neck, a touch that sends visible goose-bumps to the surface of her skin. I am doing nothing but satirising her. There is no intention of having my way with her this night. I only go to her bed while she is a demon, while she wants what I want. Sleeping with a demon is so rough, so...sexy. But it is nothing like how I'm sure sleeping with Clary would be. Sleeping with Clary will be slow, sweet...lusty. I shake those thoughts as soon as they enter my mind.

"Get off of me, Sebastian. Just get off, leave me alone until she takes over, then there is nothing I can do to stop you." It is almost a cry, a plead for mercy, and I listen. I pull back from her quaking figure, my face cold with disappointment. She looks at me again, hatred hard in her eyes, but there is something else there, something hidden between shadows of abhorrence...almost like gratitude. That can't be right. I look away at once, not in the mood for confusion to settle in my mind.

"Fine, I will leave you for tonight," I say, a stubborn note to my words as I lift myself off of the bed graciously. I look over my shoulder at her, once I stand by the large oak doors; she's staring out the small window, a glazed shimmer on her eyes, as if she's holding back tears, waiting to be alone before spilling them. "Dinner will be up soon," I say shortly, closing the door.

* * *

Dinner is as uneventful as always, father sits at the opposite end of our comically long dining table, Aline and another maid stand by the door, waiting for orders from their master. I haven't touched my food. I don't have an apatite, even after my long, hard training session. The sounds of the war outside aren't audible in here, in this abnormally large house, but the sight of it all is still clear in my mind; Black mist in every corner of my vision, a surge of men, boys and demons alike swarming in the haze of the battle, the bodies of the dead strewn across the endless ground-

"Sebastian!" My father snaps, forcing me to abandon my dreaming.

"Yes, sir?" I sound dreary and tired.

"Why aren't you eating?" It's odd, father never seemed to care for my health before the war started, and now he won't shut up about my eating, my training, my posture.

"I'm sorry, father, I was lost in mind..." I say, digging my fork into one of the roasted potatoes and dabbing it into the lake of gravy that inhabits half my plate. I hate it when they do that, gravy was invented to be spread all over the meal, not just poured on one side, and left for you to make use of.

"You get _'lost in mind'_ far too often, you must learn to pay attention, if you don't pay attention during your battles, one thing is for sure, you will be killed. You will be killed, and you won't have anything to leave on this earth when you're gone, nothing but a dead body, and they're not very useful," yaps father, boring me to hell. I roll my eyes, shoving the potato in my mouth. He's the only one who ever tries to make some sort of conversation at the table, he always fails though, and not because I won't do my part for the subject, but because the subject is alway on how badly I need to train and shit.

I glance over at Aline, who, if my eyes aren't fooling me, is concealing a giggle. She has her hand on her lips, and her eyes are strangely alight. It intrigues me, I have not seen a girl giggle in so long...But it angers me all the same, what is she laughing at? Who? My eyes narrow, and she goes pale as she notices me staring. I return my attention to my food, a smirk tugging at my lips.

* * *

After dinner, I retreat to my room, noticing my clothes have been cleared up, as I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and the like. Most of my days go like this, I wake up, have breakfast, train, have a break, train, have lunch, train, check on Clary, read maybe, have dinner, go to bed. It's all very boring stuff, nothing interesting ever seems to happen. The most interesting thing is sleeping with Clarissa. And even that's losing some touch. I land myself on the great bed that lies in the centre of my ever-darkening room, the sun is hidden behind the grey clouds, as it nears the edge of the Earth, almost out of sight altogether. My large room is silent. No sound but the deep breaths I give out every now and then. I am cold despite the thick quilts that envelope my body, a body which seems to deflect heat.

I blink once, twice, then one last time before closing my eyes for good.

_~"I'll take her back, you know I will," a boy with golden curls sneers at a dark figure. Fire and shadow billow around the two, as they stand in the middle of a raging battle._

_"You can't do anything to get her back. I own her, demon and angel, and whatever you might assume, she wants to stay with me. She hates you," calls the dark man, the one smeared in shadow, rather than the light of flame._

_"She loves me, no one else. You killed her family, killed her hope, her dreams and her soul. I can revive all but one of those things, I can give her hope, form new dreams and take back her soul." His curls dance in the wind as he speaks, his eyes a hard gold of fury._

_"No. She is mine. Mine alone."~_

I wake with a start. There is sunlight in my room, but it is still early, the morning mist still steals the suns full luminosity. There is a sound of running water, water hitting a pool. I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My back aches and I find a sheathed dagger on the mattress, where I lay, which must have been prodding into my spine all night. I stroll silently to the bathroom, which seems to be the source of the noise.

"Ah, Sebastian, sir. I was told to run you a bath." I narrow my eyes at Aline, unsure.

"Told by whom?" I enquire, dipping my finger through the surface of the water, testing it.

"Err, by you, sir. You asked me yesterday morning, you said you would like a bath at six am every morning from now on, so I ran-" I cut her off, my hand in the air. The water is hot, just the right temperature, and I flick my fingers dry.

"That's Ok, I remember. You are excused, Aline, leave me." I say, waving my hand at her, a motion to tell her to go.

After my bath, which doesn't seem to satisfy my tired muscles, as I had one yesterday, I dress in my usual clad; a shirt- plane black, and a pair of dark jeans. My dad asks me constantly to wear suits more often, but it gives me a slight thrill every time I annoy him. Father isn't awake yet, so I decide to give my little pet a visit. She isn't asleep when I enter, she is, for some reason, doing a handstand in the middle of the room, which is almost as large as mine own.

"Clary?" She takes a thump to the ground, an expression of bewilderment on her face.

"Ah, Sebastian, how lovely to see you." She regards me from where she sits, on the floor. I smirk a little, knowing the demon has overrun her mind for the day.

"Clarissa, you disapeared on me yesterday. The angel isn't giving you too much trouble, is she?" I say, while going to sit on the floor beside her. She smiles at me, her eyes twinkling with a slight amount of joy. I know she won't deny me of my desires today, so I raise a hand and slip it around her warm neck. Her eyes are instantly flooded with lust, and I kiss her hard, on the mouth.

Her lips send shivers down my spine, to where my desire shows itself. I suck her plump bottom lip, making her let out a sigh through her nose. I push her to the ground, one hand on her hip, to keep her in place. Our lips move against each other, in a hard, yet swift motion. We're both breathong heavily, as I squeeze her breast roughly, she gasps, her hand flowing over my abdomen, lower, to the waistband of my jeans. I feel her rolling her body against me, I feel myself prodding against her, and I wish for our clothes to be gone, for there to be nothing between us. My hands rip at the black shirt she's wearing, and I tear at the buttons,exposing her chest to me.

"Mmm, Sebastian...Get inside me." She moans, her breath hitting my lips. I grunt, the force of her words hitting me like a wall of stone, and I feel myself going fully hard. She must know, as she fumbles with the fly to my jeans, tugging earnestly, to expose my lust. I send kisses down her throat, over to her neck, where I feel her pulse, quick and hard, my lips move fluently down her heated chest, and I nip at her nipple, which makes her squirm with impatience. I suck and bite, until she has my pants off, and is rolling her hips, wanting me inside her. I prod teasingly at her entrance, where I know she throbs for me. She moans, lifting her body up, in an attempt to meat mine. And meat it, she does, I push into her roughly, not going soft, or gentle. Her nails grip my shoulders as I pound into her forcefully, pushing in as deep as is possible, and pulling out all the way before pounding in again. I feel her cum over me, and I do the same back to her right after. The feeling is immense, heat flowing over my length, the satisfaction almost like a drug. I look into her eyes, which glow a brilliant green, and I know she isn't finished with me yet.

I've aways thought of having sex with a demented woman as soothing her mind, as if the satisfaction might overdraw the struggle inside her head. I know the angel version of Clary, and the demon version are one in the same. They might act differently, and look different in expression...but they are one, and no matter how hard Clary tries to deny it, I am satisfying her, indulging her in my body, no matter which version shows itself during the time we spend together.

**_A/N- Right, that was a suckish last scene, but I didn't want to put a full detailed sex scene in so early, so...yeah, there it is! I hope it wasn't too bad!_**


	3. I'm sorry

_**A/N- Ok, I am updating this story so quickly because I am in love with it, this is my favourite story of the ones I am writing! I will, inevitably, get writers block somewhere along the line, but I hope that won't be for a while... Anyhoo, I know the story is moving slowly, but I'm just expressing Sebastian's feelings, the next one will have a little ore action and plot in it! BTW, the more reviews and follows/favourites I get, the more inspired I will be to write more! Just a little hint...Ok, a huge one.**_

I must admit, there is a light step to my walk, an almost skip for joy, which is scarce in this house. No one here is ever happy, no one except Clary, when she is a demon. I tend to call her Clary when she's evil, and Clarissa when the angel has her. It confuses me less. I wink at one of the servent women I pass, causing her to look at me in astonishment.

"You're in high spirits today, sir," Aline bows. I'm sick of this, I had spent a while pretending to be her cousin...or was it brother? Anyway, we are past 'Sir' and 'Mr', I roll my eyes and regard her. She looks pained, scared, heartbroken, sad...more like depressed. And it's all my fathers fault.

"Oh, drop the big charade, Aline. I call you by your first name, do I not? And to be quite honest, I don't much like being called sir, it make me feel like my father. Also, it is obvious false respect, which I hate equally as much as the first." She now looks confused, and it makes her seem like a child, a kid who was asked a question, and is trying to conjure a response that'll make the adult think of them as more than what they are.

"I'm not quite sure I understand, Si-ummm, Sebastian..." Her posture is uncomfortable, she's messing with the hem of her apron, and all that I thought of her has been pushed to its apex. She's a very pretty woman...or girl, she must only be around 17, a few years younger than I, but she does everything for me like a mother with a hated child would do.

"I'm saying...we could be friends, basically..."My eyes have found the ground, which is a shining black marble.

"Oh, well...I suppose. How d'you mean?" She is beginning to anger me, why can't she just understand? I am lonely, I have no friends, my father hates me, my lover is a demon who changes personality every day...All I'm asking of her, is if she could be a friend to me throughout these hard times.

"Forget it...you don't understand." I say, turning my back, as a look of realisation crosses her expression.

"Sebastian...I understand more than anyone. I'm stuck here, just like you. I've noticed how you act around Valentine, you hate him, anyone can see that, but he somehow misses it every time you roll your eyes, or-or ignore what he's saying, or go through great lengths to anger him. I will be your friend, if you be mine." She says all this to my back, while I gaze into oblivion, trying, desperately to understand what she's saying. When I turn to confirm things, she is gone, and I wonder if I had imagined the whole conversation. Maybe my mind has become so alone, that I have begun my own conversations, out of pure mental illness.

* * *

My mind is elsewhere, I can't force my thoughts on my training. This idle personality has to be banished, I can't lose my ground, not when I am so close to being sent out to the war. Yes, I am sure father has thought about sending me to my death, he has thought of it, and soon he will except it, and I will be out that door in moments, amoungst the battlefields. Battlefields I have not seen past a pane of glass, past my dreams. It worries me, not only because I might die, but also because Jace might have the pleasure of slitting my throat himself.

"Argh" I kick the bag I had been practising on, causing a sprout of pain to zing up my leg. I fall back to the ground, leg in my grasp. I lie flat on my back, letting the pain shoot through my body, letting it wash over me, so I might feel something, something other than anger and sorrow. My teeth grate against one another, and my jaw is in pain, from my forceful clenching. My leg, though, has become numb, and it bothers me. My leg is as numb as the rest of me, how...dull.

My hair is too like my fathers, silvery-gold. I hate it. I've decided to dye it. Though, I'm not too sure on what colour.

"Aline?" I say, not turning away from the mirror in my bathroom.

"Mmmhmm," she humms, neatening my bedclothes.

"What colour should I dye my hair?" She seems taken aback by the question, and looks to the floor, her bottom lip being chewed to death.

"Are you sure you want to do something like that? It won't wash out, you know," she says, like a worried mother.

"Yes, I'm sure." I laugh halfheartedly. Aline strolls over to me, and looks at the reflection in the mirror.

"Black," she nods after a few minutes of gazing at my face. I resist the urge to smirk, having someone left in the house who is young enough to appreciate this gorgeous face is refreshing. I think it over...yes, black did suit me the few months I had dyed it before.

"Black, yes." I nod, looking at Aline now. She's blushing at me, her cheeks a shade of pink I didn't deem possible on any human being. I smirk this time, it is uncontrollable, she's just so innocent and warm... I turn away, sighing.

After Aline has left, I go to the bathroom to dye my hair. I still have a few things in my cupboard left over from the time I used to spend disguising myself. The smell of the dye is more than disgusting, I can almost feel the scent settle on every surface of my room. The black is darker than I had anticipated, darker than night, or than the forces pounding our barrier. It looks better than it used to, I feel inky, evil...dead. I sigh at the new image in the mirror, I look different, my eyes don't pop as much, the colours are the same, eyes as black as endless pits, hair as dark as shadow itself. All so dark...but it's better than looking like my father in every way possible. It strikes me that I look like Alines cousin again, just like I had pretended to be a few years ago. I want to visit Clary, show her what I've done, but I must train some more before I do so.

I spend a few hours with my weapons before deciding it is time to read. The Codex lies, open, on the large library table I had been sitting at the other day, a page on runes is open. I gaze at the page with a lack of comprehension. My mind has found it's way to inconvenient thoughts, and I can't find it in me to turn it away from them, to face the important things. I huff, my strong breath blowing the pages out of order. I slam my hand on the table, stopping a page from hitting the floor. Something sounds on the opposite side of a bookcase, and I'm uncertain it was an echo of my palm hitting the table...

"Who's there? Show yourself." I demand, suddenly on my feet.

'Thump'- A book falls from a case, hitting the floor. I stride to the opening of a row of bookcases, spotting a large volume on the dusty floor, a cloud of dirt billowing around it like fog. My eyes jerk up, finding a woman with a set of books in her hand.

"Aline? What are you doing here? I thought I made it clear, no one but I am allowed in the library," I'm outraged, but her frail, slight body, and her panicked eyes and alarmed face softens my fury.

"I'm sorry, sir, I-I was just cleaning up some of the mess in here, I meant no harm..." I believe she's on the verge of crying, her chin wobbles and creases like a child's. I am by her side in an instant, my arm reaching for her, before I regain my senses and pull back. She's crying now, tears, like raindrops falling from a tree after a storm, slip down her flawless face. I think about all the things my father has said about not showing emotion, never crying, because it is weak, never laughing, because joy is pointless, never feeling love, because it slows you down. I think about it, and right now, it seems like a load of absolute trash.

I lift my hand, placing it on her shaking shoulder hesitantly. She stiffens, but her sobs are so forcful now, that she doesn't seem to have it in her to react to the sudden touch. I gain a little confidence, bringing her shoulders into a hug, her head resting on my chest. I let her sob in my hold for a while, my eyes staring, deftly at the bookcase behind her. - She'd stopped her crying a while ago, but is now in my grasp, her strength gone, and her form tired. I refused to listen to her cries, afraid I might break, let out the monster of grief.

"Sebastian...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have broken down on you like that," she lifts her head, eyes blotchy and nose wet, and looks into my eyes. Her apology is sincere, and it feels wrong to accept it, she has done nothing wrong. I can't help myself, her beautifully sweet, innocent face is just too irresistible. I kiss her stiffly, her lips are too loose, and mine are too hard. I loosen up, moving my mouth against hers, which has gotten over the shock of my contact. I know she's only acting on what she needs to comfort her, but I don't really care much for how guilty, disgusted and disappointed in herself she will be afterward. I press on her back, pushing her body against mine. She wants it, I know she does, it shows in the way she is kissing me fiercely, the way she is wrapping her hands around my neck, going on her tippy toes to do so. I run my hands up the fabric of her black work-gown, hitching it up as I go. My hands are on her behind, underneath her knickers. She makes a squeaking, moaning sound as I give her buttocks a squeeze. I lift her, effortlessly, against a bookcase, pulling at her legs to go around me. I feel myself go hard, and so does she, but only a groan escapes her lips. My fingers begin the process of removing her knickers-

"No, Sebastian, I can't!" She exclaims. "We can't do this, not us."

"What did you think would happen? That I would kiss you until you felt better?" I glare at her saddened eyes.

"I just don't want to do this, I don't want to have sex with you," she says urgently.

"And what, you think I care?" I frown darkly, and I don't just mean because my eyebrows are now black instead of blond. My grip tightens on her legs, and I kiss her neck hotly.

"Sebastian, please don't, please. I've never...never-" I cut her off, my mouth stopping her lips.

"Never what? Had sex? Well, I new you were a lesbian, but had assumes you had...experimented." I breath against her mouth. My fingers pull her knickers down fully, letting them hit the floor. I run my hands over her breasts, clutching forcefully. One of my hands are at my zipper, ready to unleash my lust. My progress stops as I feel her let out a sob against my body.

It makes me pause, think about what I am doing. Why would I do this? I am forcing myself on an innocent woman, a woman who, earlier today, agreed to be my friend. Now I am about to rape her, while she whimpers and wails. I pull back, letting her fall to the ground, her heart seeming to be attempting to lung out of her chest.

"I-I'm sorry..." I blurt, backing away from the mess I have created. My heart feels as if it is blocking my throat, and the monster of greif is back again, clawing and scratching at my chest, trying desperately to escape. I storm out of the library, and don't stop my quickly paced walk 'til I reach my room, where I lie, the thoughts of my doings running through my mind like a stampede of angry bulls. I almost raped someone.

**A/N- Opinions/ Ideas for the future? They're all welcome!**


	4. Kitchen folk

A/N- Hi guys! Another chapter! I ono, I know, I'm just that good...Just kidding! Anyhoo, here's another one, Sebastian is kinda weird in this one, but please don't judge him, I didn't know what else to put in! I'll make him a little darker in the next one! Umm... Oh, thanks to all you who've put this on your favourite list, I am truly grateful!

My heart pounds in my ears, as though there is an urgent thought, begging to be let in. I close my eyes, rubbing them with my cold hands. What is wrong with me? How will I ever live in the same house as Aline without breaking down with self disgust? My thoughts merge together, and I'm not sure what time it is once I remember Clary. She's been alone in her room since I left her this morning. I wonder if she's still a demon, or if my absence has given the angel some lift. I shake me head, clearing any and all disturbing thoughts from my mind, before getting off my bed and marching for the door.

I don't pass Aline on my way to Clary, which is something I am grateful for. A maid looks at me in disgust, and I wonder if that is because she knows something she shouldn't, or if they all do that, and I've never taken notice before.

"Oh, no. Not you again, didn't this morning please your apatite enough for the day?" Clarissa drawls, her arms crossed in front of her chest. A smirk cracks my face, and I feel the usual glint return to my eyes.

"I thought I might have the pleasure of your company, Clarissa. I did leave you for a while longer than usual today, did I not?" I sit by her on the bed, not touching her, but close enough to do so. She huffs through her nose, those pretty little lips of hers pursed. My gaze travels down her body, pausing at the bite mark I'd left on her neck earlier. Her pose is more beautiful than Clary's, more sweet and careful.

"What?" She snaps, her eyes on mine now. Her glare bores into me, but I can't look away, I refuse to.

"Nothing." I say simply, my tone hard and strong.

She licks her lips. "Yeah, well don't stare at me, you can stare at _her_ , but not at me...I won't allow it." Her lips have my attention, they're wet and plump, kissable. Her words breeze over my head, not one of them sinking in. My eyes stay on her, as her body tenses. She knows what I am thinking, that I can have what I want, no matter what she desires. She knows that I have in my possession, the ability and strength needed to take her down.

_"You know, Clarissa, I'm not going to hurt you, I've never intended on doing so. All I want is for you to understand, understand that I have feelings for you, for your brilliant eyes, your beautiful lips, your irresistible body. I don't feel love, or compassion, but there is something there, something I don't know the name of. It might be hope, it might be madness, it might be something without a description. But it is there, and until I figure it out, I won't tell you any of this, until I figure it out, you don't need to know."_

These words echo in my mind, like something that is getting father away with each moment that passes. I wish I could tell her something, brush back her hair without needing to explain my loving touch. But I have nothing.

"I would like for you to get out now." She says, motioning towards the door. I sigh, lying back across the bed. She glares down at me, but says nothing. My hand has found her shoulder, and I tug earnestly, pulling her back to the bed also. We lie next to one-another, her eyes searching mine, while I look at her dully. I try not to show too much emotion when around Clarissa, I don't want her to get the idea of me being soft and emotional, so I keep my distance, unless it is to taunt her, or tease her...maybe scare her sometimes.

When we first brought her in, after 'stealing' her from Jace, she was always scared, shaking with fear whenever I entered the room. The only time she wasn't scared, was when she was angry. Now she is always either angry or sad. And it is my fault. I have put her in this position, a position where her life depends on my mood, and on which side of the war wins and loses. I suppose this war wouldn't have gotten so close if we hadn't taken her in the first place, sure there would have been a long, gruesome , bloody span of time, but it wouldn't have lasted so long, Jace wouldn't be so determined to win otherwise. I hate Jace. I know that sounds childish of me, but it's the honest truth. I hate him and all he lives for, except for Clarissa. I don't hate her, I just don't love her. I sigh heavily, blowing a few stray hairs around Clarissa's face. I smirk.

"You need a shower, your hair is really greasy." She scowls, seeming offended.

"Well, I would've had one If you had let me. I've been in need of one for a week and a half!" She steams. Thoughts of her in the shower enter my mind, and it must show on my face, as she sits up suddenly.

"Oh, no. Don't even think about it, you're getting no-where near the shower while I'm in it! I forbid you." Her eyes are wide, but there is a little- extremely tiny- part of her that thinks the situation is ever so slightly amusing. I grin at her.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, never in a million years!" I exclaim, and she slaps my arm. "But maybe in a few hours." There is now laughter in my voice as I shove my shoulder against hers. I swear I see a shadow of a smile on her lips, but it's gone after a blink of my eyes. I feel desire prickling at my senses, the smell of lust in the air, as we gaze into each others eyes, or more; I am gazing into get eyes, while she stares, emotionlessly through mine.

My hand is one her waist in an instant, I don't even remember placing it there, yet I tug at her, moving her towards me. They are now looped around her body before either of us can react.

"What are you doing?" She whispers as I nuzzle her neck, my lips brushing over her skin like whispers of kisses. I feel an urge to take her, my body is tense with want, and her heat is so addictive, it's excruciating. I breath her in, craving her scent more than anything right now. She smells of rose oil and the sun, warm and sweet. I trail kisses up her neck to her jaw, which moves with words I am unable to hear, as though a strong wind rushes through us, taking away the sound of her voice. One of my hands have found her breast, under her shirt, and I caress it smoothly. She might be struggling at this point, but I am too far gone to notice, as though I am numb to everything around me, but her.

My lips have found hers, and they are tough, stiff at the contact, but I don't care, I suck on her bottom lip anyway. The next few moments are filled with my hot kisses, forced touches and hands on her skin, but all this stops when she bites down on my tongue, causing me to snap out of my numb daze.

I pull back, my hand on my mouth. There is a taste of blood, and it was her who spilt it.

"Oww," I mumble, staring at her in dismay.

"It serves you right, I told you to stop. Now get out..." She has unshed tears in her eyes, and a memory of me forcing myself on Aline flashes through my mind. I drop my hand, the sting of my tongue has caused my eyes to become glassy.

"Ok," I nod once, "I'll get out...I'm sorry." I whisper pitifully. My walk to the door is similar to how I walked out of the library, except this time, I'm disappointed in myself, not angered.

* * *

"They're falling back, going to their last resort. We have gained ourselves another week or so, they have weakened. Jace's fury has weakened them." Father gazes out the window, he is more on Earth today, more present.

"I have been training, as you've asked. But Clarissa, she's been in that room for a few weeks now, we should take her somewhere, make sure she doesn't lose her sanity." I say, trying hard to make it seem like I don't really care for her. Father turns to me, a frown creasing his brow.

"I don't have time to take your little pet for walks, she'll have to stay here." His words are final, but I continue anyway.

"I have time, I could use the portal, go somewhere people aren't looking for her...like Ireland." I say sheepishly. _Ireland?_ Why would anyone even think of the country? I guess that makes it even batter, though. No one will have any idea who we are, there, and Clarissa will blend in with the gingers. I resist a smirk.

"Ireland? No, she's not going to Ireland, why on _Earth_...No. You can take her around the house, but she is not to step foot through that portal, and you'd better be sure of it." He says sternly, sounding like a father giving orders about a pet, that she isn't to step, with dirty paws, through a certain doorway. I nod, though he can't see me, as his back is still turned.

"What are the latest war plans? Will I be moving out soon?" I ask, my ears piked up for the response.

"No. Like I said before, you will only move out when we are in desperate need of your assistance, when the war is at its highest peak." He says breathlessly, as if with impatience. I nod again, seeing nothing better to do.

"Now leave me at peace, I have much to think about." His words have a bored tone to them, and I turn my pack on him, striding toward the door silently.

So I have another few days of assured safety, which is great, but I feel uncomfortably bored. Now I sort of want to go to Ireland...strange.

I am scheduled to give an inspection to the staff today, which I am not looking forward to doing, as a meeting with Aline is inevitable. I march down the corridor, towards the kitchen, where half the staff work.

"Greetings," my one word causes the whole room to go quiet, and I smirk as the cooks line up.

I walk along the line swiftly, grinning at them all. I've always found this very amusing, me acting like a 'big-shot' making sure they're all in an exceptable form.

One girl, around the age of 14, stares at me dreamily, and I can't help but throw her a wink, which makes her look away, blushing. I don't treat the servants badly, I have a little respect for them, and I hope they know that. There are twelve of them all-together in the kitchen, but I'm not really sure of how many there are supposed to be. I glance at an unearthly skinny woman, who looks to be around 60. I had assumed they all ate the food they cooked, but going by her size, they mustn't be.

"At ease," I grin happily. They all go back to work, but I stop the old woman, attracting a lot of attention as I lead her out of the room.

"What is it, what'd I do wrong?" She says, looking up at me with tired, half-closed eyes. I sigh, thinking over how to come about saying this. I'm unused to being nice.

"Hello, I'm Sebastian," I start, sure she doesn't so much as know my name. "I was just going to ask...umm, what you guys eat..." I sound awkward and dumb, but she just looks at me sadly.

"The real question is, when do we eat. I haven't had a full meal since before I was taken captive. My co-workers are the same...We're starving, sir. But Valentine don't even think about our health, let alone anything else besides the war. I don't wish to be complaining, but we'll die soon enough." I'm taken aback by her honesty and her words. I am sympathetic toward her, and all the others. I wish I could get away without showing my sympathy, but I don't want them to die much either.

"Why don't you just eat the food you cook?" I frown, but she just shakes her head. I make up my mind immediately, and tell her she and her workers can eat whatever they want, so long as the don't take enough for my father to notice. I leave the conversation quickly, finding it awkward and weird to be nice. I shake the feeling before continuing my mission.

I don't come across Aline during the inspection, and when I ask a woman, she just shakes her head and tells me she doesn't know where Aline has gone.

* * *

I feel sick again, the training room is as dank as always, but I don't feel the need to turn on the light. I'm not working, I know it'll take my mind off everything, but I just lie here, on the matted floor of the training room. I remember doing this as a child, lying here, out of breath from my work-out, gazing up at the nude paintings on the sealing. I believe this room was once a dining room, before it was taken by my father. This house used to belong to the Waylands', before the fire and the...everything. They used to come down here during the winter, to be away from the normality of Idris...Idris, lord, how I miss that beautiful city, with it's cobble-stoned streets and its demon tower, a tower to keep things like me out, beings with an evil nature. Yeah, that's me, an evil nature. I always end up doing the evil things. Like killing that little boy; Max, I think his name was. I remember pounding his head with a hammer, I remember the severe crack of his skull.

A memory I will never forget is of the first time I met Clarissa. She was so beautiful in her emerald green cloak. More beautiful than any faery folk. I can still imagine our kiss, the one kiss she gave me on purpose, without my forceful hands. And then I remember her telling me it didn't feel right. I can't imagine Jace getting her back, I'd kill her before he came close. Then I'd kill him, and myself. I will be with her, and she will love me, no matter how long it takes. No matter how long it takes.

**A/N- So guys, what do you think of Clarissa and Seb in the shower? Oh, and the Aline thing, do you think there should be something serious between the two, of should I just leave it with Seb feeling guilty, or what? I need some help here!**


	5. I own you

**A/N- It has come to my attention that I have lost the darkness to Sebastian, I had gotten caught up in the lovey-dovey part, I'm sorry for that, I had meant to keep this story quite evil, but as you can see, it has driven off the evil road. I will try to bring back the Sebastian we all love over the next few chapters...Please check out my community; Dark corners, I would be forever grateful!**

"I'm going out today. They need me in a meeting, somewhere in Spain, I believe." Father is packing a small case, there are several documents and a spare suit, I wonder how long he'll be gone for. "Now, I don't know how long I'll be, several days, most likely. Remember my orders, Clarissa is not to step foot out of this house, I'll know if you're lying to me," he glares at me now, and I know what he says is true, he will do anything to get the truth out of someone, no matter who they are.

"I understand, father." I say smoothly, watching as he zips up his case, grabbing his coat.

"If anything happens, if the barrier gets breached, you know what to do. Get Clarissa out of their reach, and be sure to send all the servants out to the field before you go into battle, their lives are worth nothing if you can't occupy a few enemies with them." I agree with a nod, though he doesn't see, as he is already at the door. I don't bother saying goodbye, for I do not care about him, and if he was to die, I'd be the first to throw a party.

I have regained my balance on life. Clarissa is nothing but a pawn in this war, a treasure the enemy are after, and that treasure is mine. Aline hasn't shown her face since the near-rape, but I have decided that if and when she does, I will cary out the deed I have started. It's early, but I feel like visiting Clarissa, in hope of the angel side of her. I need to set a few things straight; One is that she belongs to me, two, that I can do whatever I want to her, when ever I want to, and three, that there is no escaping me. She will have to stop living with the false hope that Jace will be coming to save her from this 'travesty'. I feel the familiar spark of anger become alight inside me. The last few days I have grown weak, tired of being alone. But I failed to realise that I am not alone, I have a perfectly fine woman in a bedroom, who's only entertainment is me. Fury is the only thing keeping me alive, and if I were to let it die down again, there is no telling what will happen to me out on the battle field.

I'm at her door now, taking a breath to assure myself of my dark anger. She's asleep when I enter, he fiery locks swarming the pillow. I go to sit in her bed, pushing the curtains back before doing so. Her eyes flicker at the sudden light, but she doesn't open them.

"Clarissa. Clarissa, wake up," I order, my voice low and flat.

"What is it?" She moans, shielding her eyes from the light.

"Don't question me, I said wake up, now get out of bed," I'm right be her side, my lips close to her ear as I whisper. She looks a little frightened, my sudden show of anger putting her on edge, though obeys, slipping out from beneath the sheets. She wears a t-shirt and some knickers, her exposed skin leaves me slightly aroused. She looks around groggily for her pants, but I stop her with my hand on her shoulder. "Leave it, just come with me," I order, and she does.

I stride down the hall, pushing her along in font of me. Her legs are short and slow, to slow for my liking. I shove her through my room, not allowing her to stop and look around. I stop her outside a white door.

"Now, you're gonna go in there and have a shower, alright? And I will join you if I please," she looks terrified, though there is a bit of anger behind her eyes. She opens the door to the large, luxurious bathroom, dressed in white and black marble. She is hesitant, finding it awkward to undress in-front of me, as I stand by the door, arms crossed at my chest. She turns away from me and lifts her shirt over her greasy head. I gaze at her creamy bare back as she slowly slips out of her knickers. Her form is bare, and the white marble around her makes her look like an angel, an angel with fiery, devil-like hair.

She turns her head toward me, as if asking me what comes next. I move toward her, and she doesn't move as I lean in and stroke a stray hair behind her ear.

"You will do as I ask without question." She shivers visibly as I whisper into her ear. I turn her roughly and march her toward the two person shower. Once she's in, I turn on the water. "I've noticed your dreadful need for a shaver, but I'm sure you'd rather create some sort of rune to do the job for you..." I reach into my pocket and pull out my stele, hesitating before handing it to her through the open door of the shower. "If you try anything stupid, just keep in mind that I have a dagger on my belt." I warn.

Enough hair to block the drain slides off her wet body, and soon she's respectable enough to join. I retrieve my stele and begin undressing. Clarissa has begun rubbing shower gel on her body by the time I've joined her. She tries to ignore my presents, her back toward me as she rubs gel on her neck, until I slip my hands around her slick waist, pressing against her slightly. She must feel my hard length pressing into her back, as she lets out a gasp. I smirk, sliding my hands up her stomach to her breasts. I give a light squeeze and pinch her nipples teasingly. She is stiff and uncomfortable in my hold, and has stopped washing herself. I let go of her to fill my palms with gel, rubbing them together before placing my hands back on her breasts. I rest my chin on her shoulder while sliding my soapy hands over her stomach, lower to her freshly shaven crotch. I haven't gone between her legs yet, but I feel her stomach quivering lightly. Her skin is so smooth and tempting, and I can't help but cup her warmth with one hand and lift the other to her breast. One of my fingers have entered her warmth, and I let two others join it as I stick them in and out of her wetness, making a sucking sound which is audible over the pouring of shower water.

She sighs, as if she is Ok with me touching her in such personal areas. I kiss her neck, breathing hotly against her wet skin. "You like that, don't you?" I whisper against her cheek. She moans quietly, but I hear her call for more, ever so faint it was. I spin her to face me, pulling her into a strong kiss. My lips move roughly against hers, and my tongue is between her teeth, stirring forcefully. She groans as my length prods against her. She begins pushing me, hitting my chest in a weak attempt to escape.

"What did I tell you? There's no trying to escape me, I said there would be consequences, did I not?" I breath against her lips. She lets out a whimper, as if in surrender."That's my girl."

I have her pushed up agains the wall, struggling will get her nowhere in this position. I look down at her chest, which is pressed agains mine, and my arousal prods up to its full extent. Clarissa makes a noise as she feels me teasing her entrance. My lips are locked with hers agains, and I clamp my hands around her thighs, which are around my waist, holding her in place as I push through her entrance harshly. I bite down on her tongue as I push in the second time. I trace kisses along her dripping wet skin and suck on the nape of her neck, before sinking my teeth into her flesh. She cries out in pain, and I push into her harder, her body sliding up the slippery shower wall. Blood leaks from her wound, joining the water on the shower floor. My fingernails dig into her thighs, drawing more blood. She screams and I push in and out of her even harder, her pain fuelling my erection. Her hands have found my shoulders and she grips them harshly as the pain thrives to arouse her. I know my doings are working, as her body disobeys her mind and her hips roll against me, pushing up to meat me every time I push in.

I growl absently as I release inside of her. She moans and her cum gushes over my length, a little of it leaking out and running down her leg. I pull out and bend down to reward her for not struggling. I run kisses down her body as I go, pausing at her breasts to suck on her nipples once. My lips have found her warmth, and I send a lick through her folds, causing her to moan in delight. My lips lock with her entrance and I suck on it intensely. I slip my tongue through, moving it around inside her. She gasps and arches her back slightly, fidgeting for more. I suck and lick until she gives in and her cum drowns my tongue. I stand and force my cum-covered tongue through her lips, dancing with hers in a strong motion. I pull back after a moment or two, running my hands over her breasts before finding her shoulders and forcing her down to her knees. She looks up at me, her face wet with tears or shower water, I don't care which one it is, I just pull her hair and force her head to my erected length. She whimpers but obeys, sliding her lips over the tip of my lust. She moves the sensitive part in and out of her mouth, sucking on it lightly. I moan, but hold her head closer. She gets the message and sucks harder, rubbing her tongue over my erection.

I groan as my cum enters her mouth. After the deed is done, I pull her hair, forcing her to stand. Soon I am washing her body with forceful tugs and squeezes, while she whimpers and moans every so often. I smirk, I have her back in my grasp.

"Clarissa," I whisper against her ear. " You are mine now."

_**A/N- He is evil once more, I think I proved he will be dark again! I wanted to make sure you were convinced that I was bringing back the old Sebastian!**_

_** Review with any thoughts you have!**_


	6. Hearts

**Hi, it's been AGES, but I have finally written a new chapter! Enjoy!**

The sealing in my cold, empty bedroom has always been the last thing I see before going to sleep...I see it more than anything else in my life, which seems sad and pathetic. I can sometimes see memories of my childhood, it's rare, but on occasion a sort of fog clears in my mind and the image of my father leaving the house regularly flickers on the sealing, like an old movie. He used to go to_ him,_ to _Jace_...as if I didn't know all my life that I was just a second-rate son to do experiments on. I followed him one day, across the green fields I never had anyone to play with on. He stopped at a large house, it was burned to rubble, but I could tell it was once a wealthy mansion.

I'm snapped out of my film when a noise sounds outside my door. The servants shouldn't be up at this time. I turn my head to the door, which has a flickering light behind it, as if the person was seeing by candle fire. I sit up swiftly, striding to the door in a silent motion. The light is still there as I ready myself to fling the door open. No one is here, even the candle light has vanished.. I look down both directions of the corridor; nada.

"This is a warning," taken off guard, I gasp and spin around to face the new voice which comes from my room, the one nobody should be inside, because there was no one there a moment ago.

"J-Jace?" I stutter, absolutely dumb-struck. He stands in a glowing haze, an expression of superiority on his face.

"You seem a little surprised to see me, Jonathan," there's a smug look about him, one that brings me to my senses and I stand straight, sneering.

"I don't go by that name anymore, it is a name of disgrace ever since you claimed it."

He smiles sickly, "Haven't changed a bit, have you. I've noticed your father has left you to be slaughtered, can't blame him. I'd consider it an act of plain sense, why he didn't give you up earlier, I can't think." I clench my jaw for a second, trying not to let him see my weak anger. Without thinking, I punch out my arm, in a motion to hit him. But my tensed fist falls through his body, and I stumble forward, the unused momentum pulling me a little. "What, you didn't think I was stupid enough to actually show up in your house unarmed, did you? Or did you...really Jonathan, you disappoint me too often." I sigh, my hope of killing him right here and now dissolving into a sense of humiliation. Of course he wouldn't come into my father's house like this, even if he is an idiot.

"You are stupid, stupid enough to believe I'd ever let you get to my sister. No amount of forceful fleets of men will get to her, none." I lean on the doorframe, hoping my message was clear this time. Unbelievably, he begins to laugh. I glare at the Golden boy, the Favoured boy, the boy who found her first. I glare with something that is more than any hatred ever felt by any human being. I guess I'm not one of those though, not a human being.

"I was saying, before you interrupted with your annoying stutter, that you still have a choice. You can surrender Clary, arms raised in the air. Or you could wait with bated breath for us to charge in here and get her for ourselves, capturing you in the process, after which, we will take you back to base and execute you in front of a select audience. It's your choice, remember. Decide wisely." Jace sounds so serious, in his own way. He smiles at me as though he's after offering me candy.

I laugh at him, at his fond tone and his excruciatingly smug smirk. I laugh and he frowns. "You 'good guys' never understand how false and uneffective your carefully planed out conclusions are. I won't choose, you won't get Clarissa and I will not die."

"How can you be so sure? I might just end up killing your sister to get to you, if I really feel the need to do so."

"Nope. No you won't." I smile.

"How do you know?"

"Because you're a better person than I am." He pales slightly, knowing that this fact may decide my future in the end, the future of me and Clarissa. "It's true, isn't it...you would do anything for my sister, but you see, so would I." His form flickers slightly, like a lightbulb on the blink. He says something I can't hear as he blinks again. His voice is muffled and fuzzy until he is whole again.

"I'm coming," is all he says before the image is gone completely, and I stand alone once again. There's a chill in the after his visit and I can't sleep, I can't even get to bed without dreading the nightmares behind closed eyes.

I like the infinite hallways of this house in the dimness of the moon. I stand by a window, one at the back of the house. The horizon of the hills and the empty sky makes my chest hurt. I could be out there right now, I could let the hungry darkness swallow me whole and spit me out into empty mess. "Argh,"I slam my fist against the glass, but the forcefield was made not to break, what would be the point of it if my strength alone could breach it. I wish I could break it though, break the invincible glass around my black heart. If I could I would pull it right from my ribs and I'd squeeze it until it stopped it's stupid beating, it's _god damned beating_. Maybe I could just die and watch everything after me. I could watch Clarissa from afar, watch her smile and hear her heart live on without me...but it'd be with him, she'd be living on with him and I know that's the last thing she'd want. No, I must live for her sake. Otherwise the golden boy will take her.

"Sir...are you alright?" The vague sound of a woman's voice sounds behind me. I blink, there's light outside, I have been standing by the window all night.

"I'm fine." I snap, turing away from the window. My feet hurt and my head is light, but it's only from standing in one spot for several hours. I motion for the woman-servent to leave before collapsing on the ground like a house of cards being blown over. I breath shakily, resting my forehead on the cold marble floor. It takes a few minutes for my blood to begin flowing normally and for my head to clear. When I feel up to it, I head back to my room and change. Clarissa is joining me for breakfast this morning. She has a constant blush on, a blush of what I assume is satisfaction, though it might be shame.

"Good morning, Clarissa. I trust you had a pleasant night?" I smirk, causing her to duck her head and look away. The servants all glance at each-other, some looking horrified, some rolling their eyes. I feel a twinkle in my eye, a grin twitching my lips. "Answer me when I talk to you," I demand.

"Yes, it was a pleasant night, thank you..." she doesn't look at me, but I let her rudeness slide for the time being, not wanting to make a scene in front of the prying ears.

"Better, now eat." I order, nodding to her untouched plate of food. This is her first time eating outside her room since she came here, it must seem alien to her.

**A/N- I'll have to leave it here, sorry! I know, I know, sickish ending...but Oh well. I think I'm over writers block now, so maybe another one soon, eh? I forgot about Clary's POV...oops. I want to ask you all if you'd mind if I re-wrote chapter 4. I read over it and it was, well...unimaginably cringy, and I don't use that word...ever. So, if you don't mind, or if you'd actually LIKE me to re-write it, I will be happy to! Tell me again about thePOV form Clary!**

**Review?!**


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